RWBY: Argent Dawn
by troodon135
Summary: A team of morally dubious huntsmen find themselves in over their heads with Remnant's mafia, while Winter Schnee and General Ironwood struggle to keep tensions in the Atlas Council from devolving into civil war.
1. Chapter 1: Top of the World

_Winter_

A hot wind blew through Winter Schnee's hair as an Atlesian gunship touched down in front of her. Even now, in the middle of summer, the heat of the exhaust was in stark contrast to the chilly air around it. Winter stepped forward as the ramp of the ship descended and General James Ironwood stepped off onto Atlas Academy's docks.

"Sir," she said, saluting him, "you asked for me?"

He nodded. "Come, walk with me." Without waiting for a response, he turned and started off towards the academy. Winter had to hurry in order to catch up with him, at which point he addressed her again. "Over the past several years, Schnee, you've proven to be one of this kingdom's finest. Your skill, bravery, and loyalty have not gone unnoticed."

Winter swelled with pride at such a compliment. "Thank you, sir."

"And during that time," he continued, "I have tasked you with completing many tasks, most of them incredibly dangerous." He stopped, and looked directly at her. "I'd like to think that I can trust you."

She stood up even straighter. "Of course, sir. Freedom to speak?"

"Granted."

"You seem tense, sir. Did something go wrong at the council meeting?"

He sighed. "Not per se. It's just… Something a bit unexpected has come up. A situation I'm not particularly sure how to deal with. Councilwoman Lumina has asked me to have dinner with her and her fiancé tonight."

Winter was taken aback. "She did? That is… highly unlike her."

"I know. She's spent the last three years as my most vocal opponent, and now she's suddenly trying to make nice? It doesn't make any sense, and I don't like it."

"Sir," Winter asked, "why tell me this?"

"Everything about this just seems fishy. And while it may present some opportunities, I don't want to go into this without help. I need someone I trust, and these days that number is getting smaller and smaller. So, I would like to ask that you accompany me."

Winter was shocked. "Me?"

"You're smart, Schnee, and observant. If anything is amiss you might well spot it before I do. And you have experience navigating the more treacherous and delicate battlefield of political nuance."

"I'm flattered, but do you really think this is necessary, sir? The Councilwoman has been very critical of you, but she seems like a trustworthy person."

"I know, I know, but something feels off to me. Better to be cautious than end up in trouble unprepared."

"As you say, sir. When shall I meet you, then?"

He smiled. "Six o'clock this evening. I'll see you there." Then he turned and walked off toward his office, leaving Winter standing alone in the cold.

She sighed. This wasn't going to be a pleasant night. While Winter couldn't claim not to be familiar with the social intricacies of the upper class, she also couldn't say that she was comfortable in those situations. They brought up memories that she'd prefer to keep buried. Still, if the General felt it was necessary, it wasn't her place to disagree. Besides, who knew, it could be nice.

She shook her head and turned towards the barracks, only to see the familiar smiling face of Nox Gallus as the other huntress ran up to her. The woman was a year or so older than her, with dark skin and indigo hair dyed with purple streaks, and she glided up to Winter with an almost unnatural grace.

"Hey, Schnee," she said, "what's up? Heard the General called you up. New mission?"

Winter shook her head. "If only I were so lucky. He wants me to attend dinner with Councilwoman Lumina tonight."

Nox's eyes widened. "You're kidding me! She hates the military, why would she-"

"I don't know, but she's invited him to dinner with her and her fiancé, and he wants me along to watch his back."

"Weird. Still, can't say I don't envy you a little bit. Getting to hang with the hottest couple in Atlas? It's not exactly latrine duty."

"Maybe for you, Nox, but I'm really not a fan of… fraternizing with the upper class. I've had enough of that to last a lifetime."

"Yeah, right. Still, I've heard she's pretty nice."

Winter snorted. "Not if you're associated with General Ironwood."

"I'm sure you'll do fine. You're Winter Schnee, a politician and an actor aren't enough to kill you."

"I guess you're right." Winter gave a small smile. "Thank you."

"No problem. Now, I'm gonna need to run, I'm shipping out in fifteen minutes. Good luck!" She sprinted away, leaving Winter alone with her thoughts.

….

Winter met the General outside Hesperides Tower at the exact time he'd specified. The gorgeous apartment building was one of the tallest structures in Atlas, and probably the most luxurious place of residence in the kingdom short of Schnee Manor itself.

When Winter arrived, General Ironwood was already there, alongside his security detail. He gave her a nervous look. "Miss Schnee. You're ready for this?"

"Sir, it's just dinner, not an excursion into grimm-infested wilderness. We've both faced worse"

He took a deep breath. "You're right, you're right," he said, but Winter's own fears were beginning to return. She'd never seen the general this shaken before. The Councilwoman had a reputation as a capable politician despite her age, but Winter had never gotten the impression that she was a bad person. Why was he so on edge?

She tried to get those thoughts out of her mind. "Sir? We should get moving."

"Right, of course." He turned to the soldiers accompanying him. "Stay out here, Schnee will ensure my safety." The soldiers nodded and the two of them entered the building.

The elevator ride up was long and tedious. Hesperides Tower was an enormous building, and the Councilwoman's suite was at the very top. After several minutes of waiting, the two of them stepped out into a corridor with a single set of double doors on the other end. The doors were unusually tall, and as they swung open Winter learned why. An absolutely enormous woman, clad in silver and blue armor, stood to greet them. She looked like she might have been eight feet tall, and though her proportions seemed long and lanky, what little Winter could see of the body beneath the armor plating seemed surprisingly muscular for her slim physique.

The woman turned to address someone in the room behind her with a voice that seemed strangely soft for her immense size. "Master Rajah," she said, "the guests have arrived."

"Thank you, Nerina," a voice called from inside, and soon after a man took her place in the doorway. He was a very handsome, dark-skinned man with dirty blonde hair and a five o'clock shadow. He smiled as he saw them. "General Ironwood! It's always a pleasure. It's good to meet you as well, Miss Schnee." He chuckled at the look of surprise on her face. "It's hard not to recognize the Schnee family's prodigal daughter." He held out his hand, which she shook hesitantly. "Zmey Rajah, Dawn's fiancé. Come in, come in! She's still finishing up the details in the dining room, she wanted things to be absolutely perfect for this occasion."

The General raised an eyebrow. "Did she? How… interesting."

"Well, of course," Zmey said as he led them into the suite, "such distinguished guests as yourselves deserve a warm welcome."

"Dawn Lumina has called me many things," the General noted, "but 'distinguished' isn't something that's come up."

Zmey chuckled. "Oh, she puts on a mean persona for the press, but she really does respect you, she talks about you all the time."

Winter took a look around the room as they entered. The main living room overlooked the city of Atlas, the sunset casting everything in a gorgeous red-gold radiance. Everything here was obviously extremely expensive, from the gold-leaf decorations on the doorframes to the genuine Amadeus Finch sculpture in a case by the large glass window that allowed for a hundred and eighty degree view of the city below.

"You certainly don't spare any expense on living arrangements." Winter noted.

"The place belonged to Dawn's father, back in the day," Zmey said, "he was almost as rich as yours, if I recall."

"And what about your father?" Winter asked, without thinking. "He has his own considerable fortune, if I recall."

Zmey winced. "Miss Schnee, my family has done many things that I do not approve of. I'm sure you, of all people, can understand. The name of Schnee doesn't have entirely positive connotations these days."

Winter knew she should just brush it off, but as much as she disliked her father, the Schnee name was not something she could stand to see tarnished. "My father is far from a saint, but it's not like he's some sort of mobster!"

"Schnee…" Ironwood warned, and she snapped out of her fury, and swiftly regained her professional attitude.

"I'm sorry, sir." She said, hanging her head.

"No," Zmey said, "the fault was mine, I should have been more respectful. I hope you don't think too poorly of me for it."

Winter almost smiled. "For a man from the seedier parts of Mistral, you are certainly well-mannered, mister Rajah."

General Ironwood looked around anxiously. "When will dinner be ready? I'd like to get this over with."

"Come now," a calm, clear voice said from across the room, "do you dread my company that much, James?" Dawn Lumina was a beautiful, slender woman, with long auburn hair and golden eyes that seemed to almost glow in the evening light. She wore the clothing that Winter had seen her in most often during public addresses and press photos, a vest and skirt in silver, dark blue, and crimson, with knee-high gold boots. Winter could see no hint of the harsh, hot-tempered firebrand that she'd come to expect. Instead, there was a strange sort of sincerity to her that, even having just met her, made Winter feel strangely relaxed by her presence. Any tension that Winter still felt faded away almost instantly, as the soothing tone of the Councilwoman's voice seemed to set the entire room at ease.

"Dinner is ready, if you are," the Councilwoman continued, smiling warmly. She led them into a lavish dining room, the table adorned with numerous dishes that all smelled far better than anything Winter had eaten since leaving her family. She felt her mouth begin to water.

Once the four of them were seated, with the huge armored woman watching over the room from her post by the door, Winter spoke up. "Excuse me, Councilwoman-"

"Please," she interrupted, "just call me Dawn."

"Dawn, then. If I may be blunt, for what purpose were we invited here?"

"Oh, I just thought I'd slip some poison into the food and get this whole debacle over with." She laughed at Winter's shocked expression. "I'm joking! The truth is, I just wanted to get to know James a little better. We've been opponents in the political arena for years, and acquaintances for even longer, but I never had a chance to talk to the man behind the uniform."

"If you're looking for some hidden side to me," the general remarked, "I'm afraid this is all there is."

"And yet I think you're perhaps a better man than you might seem. And as for you, Winter, your presence here is a happy surprise. Though we've never met, you might say I'm a bit of a fan."

"Me?" Winter was confused. What could she be talking about?

Dawn smiled. "Sticking it to your father by joining the military was a brave decision. Even though I might not agree the with military on many things, I can still respect someone with the courage to stand up to one who holds so much power." Her eyes lit up. "Oh! Speaking of pissing off Jacques, I heard your sister is attending Beacon this year. That's got to be exciting!"

Winter couldn't help but smile. "Yes, I'm very proud. She's been writing to me ever since she left."

"You know," Zmey said, "my own little brother went to Beacon a few years ago. He told me some great things about Professor Ozpin."

Ironwood smiled. "Oz is one of the best people I know. The young miss Schnee is in the best possible hands."

"Still," Dawn said, "he's made his fair share of mistakes. Not to mention his lack of transparency."

"Some things are best kept out of the public eye, Councilwoman. I'm sure you understand that."

"I'm not suggesting that he reveal every detail to the press, but the elected governments of the kingdoms have a right to know what is going on. I'm sure that, as the headmaster of Atlas, you know more about his actions than the entire Vale Council combined."

Ironwood looked uncomfortable. "If you think the academies are plotting some sort of conspiracy-"

"I'm merely worried that something he's withholding might be crucial for the councils to know. I don't doubt he has good intentions, James, but if his obsessive secrecy ends up causing innocent people to get hurt, then who is powerful enough to hold him accountable?"

"In that unlikely eventuality, I will be certain to look into his actions."

"And what makes you so sure that you know everything? As far as you know, you're as in the dark as the rest of us." The reflection from the chandelier above them seemed to make the Councilwoman's eyes flicker with fire as she sat back. "Still, I didn't invite you here to argue with you."

"Yes," Ironwood agreed, "you have time set aside for that, I'm sure."

She grinned. "Is that a sense of humor I see? Why, James, I'd have never thought it!"

"Don't get used to it."

"Look, I know things have been rough between us-"

"Last month you publicly referred to me as a 'tinpot dictator who rules over us with an iron fist'."

"For instance. But my point is, I want to make things right. I've spent the last ten years blaming you for a lot of things I really shouldn't have, and I want to apologize."

The General looked surprised. "Why the sudden change of heart?"

"Zmey has been helping me gain some perspective. I've realized that if we want to make this kingdom better, we have to do it together, or else we'll just end up falling apart."

Zmey nodded. "My family is a bit of a mess. My father wanted us all to follow in his footsteps, to take over his enterprises. But the truth was that none of us could agree on what we wanted, and now none of my family members will even speak to each other. The only one I really have any contact with these days is my brother Argo."

"The one who went to Beacon?" Winter asked.

"Yeah, him. The point is, a kingdom is like a family. If nobody compromises, everything falls apart."

"And because of that," Dawn said, "I want to smooth things out, and work with you, not against you, from here on out." She held out her hand. "What do you say?"

General Ironwood hesitated, and then shook it. "Fine. But don't expect me to trust you implicitly."

Dawn smiled. "Of course. Well, now that politics are out of the way, let's eat. Try the strawberries, they're delicious."

"Zmey," Winter said, turning to him, "you said your brother Argo was a huntsman, yes?"

He hesitated. "Of a sort, yes."

….

 _Argo_

"Take cover!" Argo shouted, ducking behind the bar. As he did so, a hail of bullets flew over his head. He aimed his rifle over the counter and took a shot at one of the three armed men who had opened fire on him. The man's aura broke, and he collapsed.

There was a sound of shattering glass, and a blonde man with tanned, tattooed skin and dressed in a long leather trench coat landed on top of one of Argo's attackers. He spun as he did so, kicking the final gunman in the stomach with a hooked metal boot. "Come on, oh fearless leader," he said, grinning, "they're not so tough!"

It was at that point that the doors of the pub crashed open, and a huge, brawny faunus man with a crown of spines burst in with an enormous, seven-pointed sword in his hands. He swung the blade with startling speed, slamming the blonde man into a nearby wall. "Argo Rajah," the swordsman roared, "it's time to pay your debt!"


	2. Chapter 2: Tarnished Silver

_Argo_

"Lerna," Argo said, stepping back from the man who loomed over him, "if your business is with me, then I'd like to request you dispense with the theatrics and do no further harm to my associate."

"Love ya too!" Rowan shouted, his voice muffled due to his face being firmly planted in the wall.

Lerna sheathed his sword. "Very well. But if either of you makes another move on me or my boys, then you both die. Understood?"

Argo nodded. "Barging into a place like this with weapons drawn wasn't exactly the politest way of saying hello. Can you blame us for assuming our lives were in danger?"

Lerna chuckled. "Who's to say they ain't?"

Rowan pulled himself free of the wall and dusted himself off. "Right, that's all spooky and stuff, but who are you?"

"This," Argo answered for him, "is Lerna Fen. He's a mercenary, hitman, and all around scumbag."

Lerna feigned offense. "Is that any way to talk about family?"

"You're no family of mine, Fen. And if you were, I'd have insulted you far worse than that."

"Venom runs thicker than blood, boy." Lerna reminded him. His father had drilled those words into his head every day when he was younger. "And in any case I _am_ here on behalf of your dear old dad."

So that was it. Argo's father, Hamadryas, was one of the most influential men in Remnant's underworld. Argo had parted ways with the organization almost six years prior after years under his father's heel. He had thought that he was free of that life, but he should have known it wouldn't be that simple.

Argo nodded. "So I'd assumed. What does he want? I told him I wanted nothing more to do with him, and he seemed to return the sentiment." Argo could still hear the venom that his father had put into his words that night.

"Don't play dumb with me," Lerna snarled, "you stole from us, welp."

Ah. So that was what this was about. "I do not recall stealing anything." Argo said, which was technically true. "Are you sure you aren't thinking of one of my father's other sons? There are many of us, after all."

Lerna lurched forward with a roar, grabbing Argo by the throat. "Hamadryas knows you snitched on him to Professor Ozpin! Do you have any idea the kind of damage you did to the family?" He released Argo but kept his hand on the hilt of his sword. "You gotta pay for your betrayal, through Lien or blood."

"I'm not particularly afraid of you." Argo said.

"Don't have to be."

Argo studied the man for a few seconds. He was confident. Too confident. Argo had seen Lerna Fen fight before, and though he was strong, he was also smart enough to know that engaging both him and Rowan was a dangerous prospect. Which meant… Argo felt fear start to creep into his chest. "You're not alone, are you?"

A giggle from directly behind him and the sensation of someone's breath on his neck answered that question. "Ooh," a high pitched voice said, "he's a clever one!"

Argo tried to keep his composure, even as his heart raced. "Piper Bryce, I assume?" He asked, trying desperately to appear calm. "Your reputation precedes you."

Piper leapt over his head and landed in front of him on all fours with a disturbing grace. She was a young girl, perhaps fifteen years old, but that didn't detract from her aura of menace in the slightest. Her tangled mess of hair covered much of her face, but it wasn't enough to conceal the slight red glow to her eyes or her twisted grin filled with sharpened teeth. Tiny carved trinkets hung from her bloodstained clothing that appeared to be carved from human bone.

Lerna smiled. "So, here's how it's gonna go. You pay over the cash equal to the damage you did, or I leave you in the tender care of my dear partner."

Argo had seen the girl's handiwork before, even if they had never met face-to-face. He had little-to-no chance of escaping her attentions alive. "I don't have the money with me," he explained, "but I can get it to you. Please! Just give me a week, I can get it to you!"

The two mercenaries looked at each other and were silent for a few seconds. "I say we give it to him," Piper said, grinning ear-to-ear, "the kill's always more fun when the prey has time to… anticipate it."

Lerna chuckled. "Sure, why not. I've got time to kill. Very well. You've got seven days to get together thirty million lien for us."

Argo stared at him in shock. "Thirty million? That's absurd! The Codes dictate that-"

"That you repay the value of what you stole, I know. The information you gave Ozpin helped take down some of our best operatives. Hamadryas reckons that's about how much revenue was lost, and the other lords agreed. So that's what you pay." He smirked at Argo, baring his yellowed teeth. "If you have a problem, take it up with him. Don't think he'll much care to listen though. See you in a week." He turned to leave, but not before spitting in Rowan's direction. "Don't think you'll get off easy either, blondie. You attacked my men, that means your whole little team is on the line for this."

With that, he walked out the door. Piper gave Argo another razor-toothed grin, then seemed to fade away into the shadows, vanishing before his eyes.

Rowan whistled. "What the fuck was that? You knew those people?"

Argo shook his head. "From a… professional standpoint. Look, I'll explain later. For now, call your sister. We need to have a talk as a team."

 _James_

James Ironwood sat at his desk, poring over the reports from the various teachers who worked at Atlas Academy. He hated this part of the job. He'd become a huntsman to take action against humanity's enemies, not to evaluate report cards and detention slips. He sighed as he glanced at the next paper on the pile. Complaints about Team FNKI's behavior, again. He was beginning to wonder if it had been worth admitting that Katt girl into Atlas to begin with.

A ringing sound came from his desk, and James felt a rush of relief. Finally, a distraction from this tedium. He answered the call and a holographic screen appeared in front of him, displaying the face of Professor Redcap, the Academy's survival instructor. She was a middle-aged woman with short, spiky, platinum blonde hair and a pair of thin-rimmed spectacles. "Sir," she said, "Councilman Pike is here to see you. I'd suggest you let him in before he up and dies of old age."

"Thank you, Robin," he said, and ended the call before pressing the button to buzz in his guest. The doors slid open and the Councilman walked, or rather hobbled, into his office. James had never met anyone else who could make such a limping gait seem intimidating, but the elderly veteran somehow managed it. The first thing that struck you about the Councilman was his age. At almost a century old, Timur Pike was one of the last surviving veterans of the Great War and possibly the only one who still had any sort of public life. His pale skin, nearly translucent white hair, and sunken grey-green eyes made him seem almost like a corpse which had decided that it wasn't going to let something as minor as death stand in its way.

His wrinkled lips curled into a smile at the sight of James. "General Ironwood," he boomed, in a voice far deeper and stronger than his frail form would suggest, "I hope I am not interrupting anything important."

"Nothing that can't wait for an old friend," James said. "Please," he gestured to one of the chairs in front of his desk, "sit down. Would you like something to drink? Tea, perhaps?"

"That would be much appreciated," Councilman Pike said as he sat down, laying down his grizzled black cane as he did so. He gazed around the office. "I never thought I'd see this old place again. You know, back in the day, they tried to make me headmaster."

"Tried?"

"I didn't want the job. It was like I told the Council; I'm a soldier, not a huntsman. As similar as the two disciplines may be, the differences were enough that I didn't trust myself to run a place like this." He smiled as James handed him a cup of tea and sipped it slowly. "Looking back, I made the right choice. I can think of no one, myself included, who deserves to sit in that chair more than you."

James sighed. "I wish I could agree. Sometimes I feel like I have no clue what I'm doing. Running an army is one thing, but teaching children? I never learned how to do that!"

"And I never learned how to be a politician. We've made do, which is the best we could do. Besides, I never said you were perfect." He sat back in his chair and sipped his tea. "She's playing you, you know."

James looked at him quizzically. "I'm sorry?"

"Councilwoman Lumina, I mean. I heard what you two discussed last night, and I'm warning you not to fall for it."

"Wait, how did you-"

"James, listen to me. We're soldiers, not politicians. We're on her turf now, and that means we have to be cautious. She's offering you an olive branch, but be careful it doesn't come with a dagger in your back."

James regarded the old man for a few seconds. He certainly seemed to think this was of dire importance. "Well, of course I'm not going to just act like nothing ever happened between us, but Dawn is a good person. If she wants to mend things between us, I can't say no; it'd make me look like the bad guy here."

"And she knows that. For all her good intentions, she didn't get to where she is by being straightforward and honest with her rivals. She's put you in a tricky position, and I don't think she has your interests in mind. Just remember that." He glanced at his watch. "And now, I'm afraid I must be going. My daughter expects me at her house for lunch."

He limped off, leaving James alone with the warning still in his mind. Councilman Pike had a point, he knew. He and Councilwoman Lumina had been on bad terms for years, and the fact that she wanted to make up so suddenly was certainly unexpected, but she'd never struck him as the deceitful type, and he couldn't afford to ignore this opportunity. This was going to be difficult.


	3. Chapter 3: Points of Contact

_Argo_

Tenebra Skyggen's ruby-red eyes glared at Argo with such intensity that he physically recoiled. "What the hell have you gotten me into, Rajah?" She demanded, nearly shaking from anger. She was a lean woman of above average height, with a sharp, narrow face that always made her look like she was angry which, Argo supposed, was not an inaccurate assessment.

He tried to look calm, chose his words carefully. "Rowan and I were attacked while visiting the local pub," he explained, "and we defended ourselves appropriately."

"Rowan told me what happened," she snapped, "why the hell are we being hunted?"

"The man who was leading our attackers, Lerna Fen, is an employee of my father's."

There was a brief flicker of shock across Tenebra's face, and then all emotion faded from her expression. She sat down on their apartment's beat-up old couch and laid her head in her hands. "God fucking damn it," she said, her voice nearly monotone, "I go on an errand for a half hour and everything goes to shit. Perfect."

Rowan, who was reclining in a hammock that he'd hung haphazardly from the dusty ceiling, sat up. "What's the big deal about your dad? Everyone talks about him like he's a real scary dude."

"He is," Argo said, "but more importantly he employs a lot of people who are even scarier."

"Like that creepy kid at the pub?"

Argo nodded. "That's Piper Bryce, one of his worst. She was a serial killer in Mistral before she was recruited, and old habits die hard."

Rowan shuddered. "Yikes."

Argo turned back to Tenebra. "They want thirty million by a week from today," he explained, "and what's worse, because Rowan knocked out a couple of his thugs, you two are now targets too."

Tenebra glared at her surrogate brother, who looked defensive. "It wasn't my fault," he said, "they were pointing guns at us!"

Argo nodded. "I know Lerna, he'd never be that clumsy without a reason. He was provoking a reaction intentionally. He, or my father, wanted an excuse to kill you too."

Tenebra cursed again and took out her scroll. "Thirty million," she muttered, "where the hell are we supposed to get that kind of money in a week? We'd not be able to get that kind of cash if we had a year!" She looked at the screen. "We could try ransom," she suggested, "isn't Schnee's kid in town?"

"Attending Beacon," Argo said, "we try to make a move on her and every huntsman and huntress in the kingdom will be on us."

She scrolled through a list on her scroll. "I don't suppose there's a chance for an extension? There's a couple jobs here that might make us enough, some smuggling and some dust theft, but they'd take too long to complete."

Argo shook his head. "We're lucky to get a week as it is."

Rowan jumped down from his hammock. "Then I say our best bet is to run. Annie could probably keep us hidden until this blows over."

Argo had never met Annie, but it was hard not to have heard of her. The daughter of a huntsman who'd made his living protecting seaside villages from pirate raids and seafaring grimm, Annie Redtail had turned her father's career into an enterprise, founding the Privateer's Guild, an organization that hired themselves out to villages and civilian ships as protectors. So far, they'd been explosively successful, helped by the fact that most of the Guild's members had themselves once been some of the most feared pirates to sail Remnant's seas. Oh, and she was Rowan's girlfriend.

"Sounds like a good idea," Tenebra said, "if anyone can take on Hamadryas Rajah, it's Annie."

"I'm not so certain," Argo said, "the last thing we need is to trigger a war between the Privateers and the followers of the Ophidian Codes."

"The wha?" Rowan asked.

Argo gave him a disbelieving look, and then looked to Tenebra. "He's seriously never heard of the Ophidian Codes?" He asked incredulously.

"Give me a break," Rowan said, "a life of slavery and sailing doesn't leave much time for education."

He sighed. "Think of them as a set of laws that bind the less savory parts of Remnant's society. People like… well, like us."

"Laws for criminals?" Rowan asked. "Seems a bit ridiculous."

"My father didn't think so. A bit less than thirty years ago, he and the other heads of the organized crime families in Mistral met in the town of Ophidian to write the Codes. He managed to convince them that he should be the man in charge of writing them, with the help of a couple of his closest allies. So, you can imagine who the Codes ended up favoring."

"Sounds like a bit of a raw deal," Rowan observed, "and people still went with it?"

"These days," Argo replied, "maybe eighty percent of organized crime in Remnant operates under the Codes. The main appeal is that those who sign the codes have ways to retaliate when others who've signed interfere in their business. Ways that _don't_ provoke an all-out gang war."

"And if we don't get the money by next week," Tenebra broke in, "every one of those eighty percent will be ready to kill us on sight."

Rowan looked unimpressed. "Hey, one out of five chance, I like those odds!"

Tenebra rolled her eyes. "You're an idiot." She glanced at her scroll again. "Wait, there's a job here. Looks like… Damn, that can't be right."

"What is it?" Argo asked.

" _Two hundred million_ lien," Tenebra said, "holy shit."

Rowan ran over to look. "What's the job" He asked, peering over her shoulder.

"It doesn't say," she said, "it just says… Ugh, that's not good." She turned the scroll so that Argo could see. The posting for the mission read "CONFIDENTIAL" in big red letters, but underneath that it said "for more information, inquire at 1837 Twist Avenue." Argo recognized that address.

"That's Sable's place," he said, "what is he up to?"

"Guess we're finding out," Rowan replied, "unless you've got any better ideas."

"Last time we took a job from Sable," Argo reminded him, "Glauci got shot in the head!"

"We'll all be killed without that money," Rowan pointed out. "Besides, he's a pretty cool guy, I think we can trust him to pay us."

Argo growled in frustration, but nodded. "Fine. Let's go."

 _Winter_

The Atlas Council met in a wing of the Academy building, away from any of the classrooms, and sealed off by many layers of security. Winter stood at the double doors that led into the Council chamber itself, as still as a statue. If there was one thing she did well, it was standing at attention. The man opposite her, a specialist named Alon Pine, seemed even more inanimate, as his head-to-toe plate mail made him look like a suit of ornate armor on display.

They could hear the sounds of arguing from within the chamber, in particular the shrill voice of Councilman Medes, who apparently took issue with a proposal that had been made by Councilman Pike involving labor laws. Winter couldn't make out everything, but the source of the disagreement seemed to be her father. She sighed heavily. Of course it was.

Pine glanced over at her, or at least she assumed he had, it was hard to tell under his helmet. "Politicians, am I right?" He asked. "All talk, no action."

Winter nodded. "I'm glad the General is here to keep them in line."

He scoffed. "If you ask me, he's as bad as they are. He's more concerned with his career than Atlas, in the end."

She glared at him. "You don't know him very well. He's a good man."

"Sure, he means well, but he doesn't understand our lives. The lives of the people, I mean. Then again, I suppose you wouldn't either."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"You know exactly what it means, Ice Queen. You took this job out of pride, not because you had to. How would you possibly know what it's like to struggle to make ends meet? You, Ironwood, the rest of them, you're out of touch."

"You've been listening to Lumina's speeches, haven't you?" She asked. "You know her parents were almost as rich as mine. She's hardly one of the common folk."

"Still," he said, "she makes a lot of good points. And she spent five years working out in the villages, she's more in touch with the less privileged than you think."

She was about to retort when a man in a dark purple suit turned the corner and started toward them. He was a thin man, with high cheekbones and a narrow, angular jaw. He would perhaps have been attractive, in an unconventional sense, if not for his eyes. It wasn't anything about them physically, at least, not that Winter could name. But there was something wrong there all the same. Their vivid purple irises seemed to reflect an emptiness, like he was gazing upon an empty void that lay far, far away from where they stood.

He walked up to the doors, not even acknowledging the two specialists. Winter stepped in front of him. "Excuse me, sir," she said, "there is a meeting in progress. If you wish to speak to one of the Council-"

He didn't even seem to hear her, stepping around her with an eerie grace. With a wave of his hand, the double doors swung open into the council chamber, and he strode in like he owned the place.

He barely seemed to notice the Council as he strode forth, the spangles on his long-tailed suit sparkling like a field of stars. When he walked, his footsteps made no sound, as gazed up at them Winter felt a chill run down her spine. She ran towards him, drawing her sword, and shouting "Halt!", but before she could reach him she slammed into something, like an invisible wall between her and the intruder.

Winter saw General Ironwood reach for his weapon, and Councilwoman Lumina's towering bodyguard, Nerina, prepared to lunge at the intruder, but the man held up his hands. "You are in no danger, at least not from me. I wish only for a minute of your time." He spoke in a soft monotonous voice that seemed almost bored with the current proceedings.

The General kept his hand on his pistol, but didn't draw it. "You have the nerve to barge in here, ignoring security and resisting my soldiers, and then demand an audience?" He fumed, glaring at the man.

"It is an urgent matter," the stranger explained, "and my message is one that I felt you would prefer not to leave this room…" He was looking right at the General when he said that.

Councilman Medes, a middle-aged man with tanned skin and a head completely devoid of hair, smiled. "I think we should at least hear him out, General."

The General sighed, but nodded. "Fine."

The stranger bowed deeply. "I have ventured here to warn you of an oncoming danger. Last night, a band of raiders attacked the village of Chelonia, where I had been staying."

"And this is of concern to the Atlas Council?" Councilman Pike cut in. "We have much greater matters to attend to than simple bandit raids. Hire a huntsman to deal with your problem, we have a kingdom to defend."

"Oh," the man said, "you misunderstand. I did not come here to ask for your help. The attackers took what they wanted and moved on. They're long gone. No, I came to give you information, information that I believe you would prefer to be solely in your hands. The men who attacked the town were not simple bandits. No, they were too well outfitted, too well coordinated. They were a warlord's men, I knew that immediately."

The Council members all looked to Ironwood. As the leader of Atlas's military, he'd know the nature of any of the local petty landlords better than any of them. But he just shook his head. "That still doesn't make it a concern of Atlas."

"No?" The man smiled, though only in the loosest possible sense of the term. His lips curled upwards, but there was no mirth there. "Not even if I told you that they weren't alone?" He clasped his hands together and looked thoughtful. "If you knew the nature of their company, you wouldn't dismiss me so quickly."

Councilwoman Lumina stomped her foot impatiently. "Spit it out, then!" She snarled, evidently as frustrated with the stranger's riddles as Winter was.

He simply chuckled, which reverberated through the Council chamber, even though none of the other noises that had been made so far had caused the slightest echo. There was definitely something wrong with this man. "Oh, very well. You see, my lady, these men were accompanied by a pack of grimm."

General Ironwood looked ready to shoot the man in the kneecap. "Grimm always accompany bandit raids! This is a waste of our time and-"

"No." The man said. It was quiet, almost imperceptible, but somehow the word cut over the General's furious tone. "Not like that. They didn't draw the grimm in. They were speaking to them. And the beasts listened."

There was a long, shocked silence. Councilman Pike broke the silence. "Impossible. No one can control the grimm."

"You doubt the evidence of my eyes?" The stranger asked. "Very well. But seeing is believing." He pulled a scroll from his pocket, and handed it to Councilman Medes. "I think the contents of this device will prove my words."

Medes cautiously connected the scroll to the projector the sat behind him, and a scene sprung to life before them. Three villagers cowered against a wall, as two foul monsters bore down on them. They were large, and lean, with overly long limbs and slimy black flesh. Their heads looked like those of some sort of fish, with large bulbous eyes and a gaping maw filled with needle-like teeth so long that Winter was certain they couldn't possibly close their mouths.

They snarled, and snapped at the villagers, who screamed, as the bigger of the two lunged towards the foremost one, an older woman. Winter winced, knowing what was coming. But then, a voice shouted. "Stop! Back!" The creature, much to the shock of everyone in the room, did as it was told. The two of them slinked back, as a man, dressed in armor that looked like a mixture of archaic and modern styles, walked into view, a strangely shaped rifle in his hands.

The armored man stepped forward, grabbing the youngest of the villagers, a faunus man of maybe seventeen years, by the wrist. As they watched, a blade extended from his gauntlet, and he sliced at his captive's clawed fingers one by one, severing them at the second knuckle.

"That's enough!" Councilman Pike said, looking thoroughly sickened. Medes turned off the projection.

"I found the footage in a security camera set up by the village's watchtower," the stranger explained.

"This is… troubling." The General said. "Go. We will discuss the matter privately."

The stranger bowed again and swiftly departed the room. General Ironwood looked at Winter. "That means you too, Schnee. This is for Council ears only." Winter saluted him and marched out the door. Nerina followed her shortly afterward and then the doors closed shut, leaving the two of them outside. Pine was still standing there, and though Winter couldn't see his face she could tell he was afraid.

"Did you even try to assist me?" She snapped at him. He simply shrugged.

 _James_

James' thoughts raced. This was very, very bad. Qrow had said that Vale was the most likely target, what the hell was she doing in Solitas? And it had to be her, no one else could command the grimm like that. He needed to contact Ozpin immediately.

No, he thought, not yet. Ozpin would say what he always said, that they should wait, and avoid causing a panic. James looked around the room, at the three Council members still staring in shock at what they'd seen. They had no clue what they'd just witnessed. The greatest threat mankind had ever faced had come to their doorstep and they didn't even realize it. Action had to be taken, and swiftly.

"We need to send a strike team," he said, "find these people and capture them. Once we learn what they know, we'll know what kind of danger we're in."

"I'm not so certain," Councilman Pike said cautiously, "I'm not so familiar with modern technology, but could the recording have not been faked?"

"I'm sure it's some editing trick," Medes said, "or maybe computer generated effects. Nothing like this has ever been seen before, the most logical conclusion is that it's a hoax."

"That seems likely," Pike agreed, "I think we should wait to act on this information until the recording can be analyzed more thoroughly, for all we know this could be a trap, or just a way to waste our time and resources." He glanced at the doors nervously. "I don't trust that man. He didn't even give us his name, and barging past security like that? It's not only suspicious, it's downright impossible!"

Were they really voting to ignore this? James wanted to shout at them, but he kept his voice steady. "I don't think it was a fake."

"Unless you know something the rest of us don't," Medes responded, "there's no reason to trust that man's word."

All three looked at him. He wished he could tell them everything, but he knew he couldn't. The truth had to remain hidden for now, most of it at least. "I… I've been in contact with a huntsman whom I know and trust. His reports match up with this."

Councilwoman Lumina raised an eyebrow. "And when were you planning on telling us this? It seems like something we should have known."

"This is an internal military matter, Councilwoman, I am not required to notify you about every report I receive from my soldiers."

She narrowed her eyes for a moment, and James' heart sank. He'd never get the Council to approve this mission, especially not without her support. But then she smiled. "Alright then, I agree with James on this matter. We should send a strike force of Specialists to investigate."

For a few seconds, James could only stare at her in disbelief, but he managed to come to his senses. "Very well, that's three for, two against. I'll start putting together a team immediately." He was still shocked by the solidarity she'd shown. He couldn't imagine a time when she'd voted with him on anything in the past three years. The other two Councilmen grumbled, but didn't argue, instead simply exiting the chamber. James was about to follow them when he felt a hand close on his arm. He turned to see Councilwoman Lumina, smiling at him.

"Like I said," she said, "I want to make things right. I expect the same sort of support towards me in return."

James tried to breathe steadily, but something about the feeling of her hand on his forearm was strangely electrifying, almost like how he'd felt on his first mission as a huntsman, and had realized that he'd walked right into the middle of a pack of Beringels. "I will try to repay your actions," he managed, "but I cannot promise anything."

"I wouldn't advise that you double-cross me, James. You'd regret it."

He stepped back and threw up his arms as she released her grip on him. "I have only the best intentions, Dawn." He meant it too. If he could forge an actual alliance with her, then the conflict which had long plagued the Atlas Council might be drawing to a close at last.

"We've both seen where those good intentions have led." Her smile was gone, and James' heart sank.

"It's been ten years," he said, "I thought we were over this."

"I told you last week that I wanted to put the past behind us," she said, "but some wounds don't just heal with time, I need to know that I can trust you. And if I'm going to trust you again, I can't have you keeping all these secrets from me, from the Council."

James wished it was that simple. He wished he could tell her about Salem, the Maidens, the Relics, all of it. Transparency would make everything so much more simple. But the world wasn't simple, as Oz had often reminded him. They couldn't risk anyone knowing about those things. While Dawn was a good person, that didn't mean she was discreet. If she knew, he was certain she'd let all of Remnant know within the week.

He frowned, biting his lip, trying to think of how to respond. This alliance was too valuable, and too tenuous, to just refuse. But he couldn't tell the truth either. "I'll look into the possibility of forwarding all relevant reports from my agents to the Council from here on out." It wasn't technically a lie, of course. Qrow wasn't his agent, and so long as the Council thought they knew where the information was coming from, they wouldn't be suspicious of any omitted details.

But she just rolled her eyes, a humorless smile on her face. "Fine, then. But one day I will figure out what that little bird whispering in your ear is up to." She started walking towards the door, leaving James trying to figure out exactly what was going on.


End file.
